


Icicle

by Glitter_Lisp



Series: The World From Water [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt Remus, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Lisp/pseuds/Glitter_Lisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several hours after the ocean loses sight of two animals, two men get lost in a forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Icicle

There is a corner of the forest that is still frozen, even as far into spring as it is. Slush is piled amongst the sprawling roots of the trees, killing the grass and keeping the ground hard and icy.

It’s in a pile of this slush that a naked man is collapsed. A small icicle on the branch above him lets down a drop. It splashes on the back of his outstretched hand, and it turns red as it trickles down his oddly bent fingers, cutting a tiny trail through the dried blood. It does this several times, wondering how much of itself it would have to give to remove the dirt and blood from the man entirely. With that thought, it holds onto another few drops, wary.

Footsteps approach, and a pile of wet, dirty snow is kicked into a tree for no reason as another man jogs up to the tree and the naked man. He is taller, healthier, and wearing pants and bandages around his shoulders and torso. The icicle considers him as he freezes, then the bunched up tension beneath his skin releases as he sighs. “There you are, damn it, Remus.”

He squats next to the first man, Remus, and examines him carefully before pulling a thin stick out of his pocket and tapping the man’s fingers. “Ferula,” he murmurs, and to the small icicle’s delighted surprise, white cloth and another small stick erupt from the tip and wrap themselves around the fingers, forcing them straight with a c _runch_. “Ferula… any more? Damn it. Ferula.”

When three fingers on each hand and the left wrist have been treated, the man in pants begins treating the wounds scattered across the unconscious one’s body. More mumbled words and bandages appearing from nowhere, and an ever increasing vibrating worry from the second man as the first continues to lie still. “Come on Remus,” he mumbles between spells as he carefully rolls the man onto his back, revealing more fresh slices on an already scarred face. He doesn’t stop to look at those though, instead focusing on the wounds on his chest and belly.

A fire sprouts from the stick next, bright blue and warm and making the icicle drip ever faster, drops now landing in the injured man’s matted brown hair.

The other man seems to notice, or perhaps it’s only a coincidence that he runs his hand over the mess of tangles. “Oughta trim this,” he murmurs. “Haven’t seen your hair this long since we were sixteen. What were they thinking, honestly, should have-”

He chokes, suddenly, and his warm tears mix with the frozen ones from the icicle above.

That seems to do it, for suddenly the man is stirring. “P’ds,” he mumbles, and his friend barks out a sudden, surprised laugh before beginning to cry even harder.

“That’s my Moony,” he whispers. He scoops snow over the fire, putting it out, and then scoops up the man. “Time to go.”

He turns and suddenly they’re gone, pulled away to somewhere else, and the icicle is left to melt in silence.


End file.
